


Picking Up the Pieces

by djAngelynn



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-04-02 10:02:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4055869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djAngelynn/pseuds/djAngelynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For months, Toshiro lived an illusion whilst Karin lived a nightmare. Now freed, they have to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Rescue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo. I am just playing in his sandbox. Cross-posted from FFN.

The icy winds blew harshly, whipping the thin, tattered kimono around his lean body. He breathed in deeply, emptying his mind as he settled into the familiarity of his inner world, feeling the cold, yet comforting physical manifestation of his blade come to rest beside him.

Neither master nor blade said a word, for they hardly ever needed words to communicate now. Both reveled in the familiar presence of the other at the moment. This was their time to connect again before they started their training for the day.

"Master, someone is headed your way." The low rumbling voice of his blade broke the silence, startling him a little, and making him frown. This was an unprecedented break in the schedule that his guards kept, and he could not help but feel a hint of trepidation.

Nodding an acknowledgement and thanks, he quickly withdrew from his inner world.

The first thing he became aware of was the soft clicking sound of the locks disengaging and the heavy metal door swinging open slowly. Alert, not to mention wary and apprehensive – the guards usually had the most annoying habit of announcing their presence by throwing the heavy metal door open with a resounding crash – he quickly rose from his cross-legged position on the mattress and got his back against the wall, muscles tense, ready to fight if necessary, regardless of how futile his previous efforts had proved to be.

Teal eyes narrowed as the two figures stepped into the room, the light from the corridor casting their faces into shadow, making it impossible for him to make out who they were. There was no mistaking, however, the Shinigami Vice-Captain badge tied around the left arm of one of the figures and the distinctive black garb of the Shinigami.

"Toshiro!" The voice of Kurosaki Ichigo was unmistakable, and Hitsugaya found relief flooding through him, and quickly suppressed the feeling, not relaxing his stance in the slightest. He had one too many disasters with illusions to let his guard down now.

"Captain Hitsugaya," Kuchiki Rukia greeted him, before touching the headset she had clipped onto her left ear. "We've found Captain Hitsugaya, I repeat, we have located Captain Hitsugaya. Location: Corridor 10, Sub-Level 3."

Ichigo levelled his gaze on Rukia, and there seemed to be a bout of silent communication before she shook her head slightly.

"Damn," Ichigo cursed, worry and annoyance flashing across his face. Rukia laid a staying hand on his arm, stopping him before he could rush out of the cell and inclined her head towards Hitsugaya, who had yet to respond or move from his defensive position against the wall and was watching them with a guarded expression.

"Captain Hitsugaya?" Rukia's violet gaze probed his cold, impassive teal gaze. "Captain Hitsugaya, do you recognize me?"

Hitsugaya suppressed a flash of irritation. Of course he recognized her. The problem was in figuring out whether she was the genuine article or an illusion. He nodded sharply to her query.

"Captain Hitsugaya," she repeated, her voice low and calm, "we are under the Head-Captain's orders to retrieve you from this dangai pocket dimension and bring you back to the Soul Society. Please stand down and come with us."

Forcing himself not to react to the flicker of hope that had blossomed in his chest, Hitsugaya allowed the glimmer of suspicion to enter into his eyes.

"We don't have time for this, Rukia!" Ichigo hissed fiercely, frustration colouring his tone. He looked ready to bolt from the cell. Quick reflexes honed from years of battle allowed him to dodge the elbow that was aiming a wicked jab to his abdomen.

"We need him to come with us, idiot!"

"Well, I need to find my –"

"Momo." Hitsugaya's voice, deepened and raspy from the lack of use startled both parties out of an imminent explosion of tempers. He had seen these petty arguments before and was not interested in a repeat performance. All that mattered to him was the knowledge of Momo's current status. He met both their gazes levelly and spoke again, forcefully. "Have you found Momo?"

Both of them looked surprised and confused at the question. Hitsugaya frowned inwardly. He had been perfectly coherent, hadn't he? What kind of reaction was that? "Well?" he barked, annoyed at the reaction and lack of answer.

A burst of static from Rukia's headset distracted them before Hitsugaya could get an answer.

"Rukia! We found her. Meet you at the rendezvous point in five."

"Got it. Thanks, Renji. Over and out."

Ichigo visibly sagged in relief and Hitsugaya's stance relaxed a little even as he wondered at the Subtitute Soul Reaper's odd reaction. He did not remember Momo and Ichigo being close enough friends for him to have that sort of reaction. "They've found Momo? How is she?"

"She is doing well, as far as I know," was Rukia's vague answer and Hitsugaya could have snarled at her in frustration. That was not the reassurance he was looking for and the petite Shinigami knew it.

"Take me to her."

Ichigo and Rukia exchanged glances and yet another bout of silent communication that had Hitsugaya gritting his teeth angrily. Only years of acquired self-control prevented him from spitting out a biting retort at their obvious subterfuge.

Finally, Rukia looked at him again and nodded. "If you'll follow us, Captain Hitsugaya, we have your blade waiting for you."

Hitsugaya gave a curt nod and gestured for them to lead the way. He still did not trust them enough to have his back to them, not when they were keeping information from him.

The two Shinigami exchanged glances again, before Ichigo nodded, turned and left the cell, with Rukia following close behind. Satisfied that they had complied with at least that, Hitsugaya straightened and, without a backward glance towards the cell that had been his prison for months, marched out behind them.

They made their way through short, dimly lit corridors, some with doors that had been thrown open, revealing dark chambers, eventually reaching a wide, open space where a Senkaimon was open and waiting.

"Captain Hitsugaya," Abarai Renji greeted, and Hitsugaya could only make out a slight, dark-haired figure cradled in his arms before he turned and entered the open portal.

"After you, Captain Hitsugaya," Rukia said, as Ichigo ignored the both of them and hurried after Renji.

Hitsugaya nodded and once the Hell Butterfly guide fluttered above him, stepped into the Senkaimon, and out into the... brightly lit underground basement of Urahara's Candy Shop? He frowned. Shouldn't they be headed back to the Soul Society? What were they doing at Urahara's?

"Shiro!" an all too familiar voice rang out and then he was holding on to a peach-scented, dark-haired female as she clung to him and wept into his chest.

"Momo?" Stunned, he searched the people gathered in front of the gate for the unconscious girl that he had seen Abarai holding moments before. If Momo was crying in his arms, then who was the girl Abarai had rescued along with him?

A sense of unease creeped up unto him, even as he patted Momo's back in an absentminded gesture of comfort. Abarai was carefully transferring the girl into Ichigo's arms now, and her dark, long hair covered her face, making it impossible to discern her identity. However, Ichigo's gaze was uncharacteristically soft as he looked at her unconscious figure, and Kurosaki Isshin, his father, was now hovering worriedly next to them, with the Vice-Captain of the Fourth Division, Kotetsu Isane, standing over to the side, waiting for them to allow her access to the girl for medical treatment.

Kotetsu finally managed to persuade father and son to make their way to the tent where a makeshift healing bay had been set up and Ichigo carefully lay the girl down on a futon.

Hitsugaya's heart pounded in his ears as he reached a conclusion on the identity of the girl. There was only one dark-haired girl that could make both Isshin and Ichigo worry like that, and as Isshin gently brushed back her dark locks, revealing her face, Hitsugaya felt his heart drop.

For the girl whom he had been incarcerated with, whom he had been forced to commit unspeakable horrors to, was not Hinamori Momo – it was Kurosaki Karin.


	2. Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo. I am just playing in his sandbox.

It was almost surreal, Hitsugaya thought, as he stepped into the Soul Society again, behind Kotetsu, Hinamori at his left, with Abaraji and Kuchiki right behind him. He was finally free of that wretched place. He was finally back in the Soul Society.

He sensed Hinamori tense beside him, heard Abarai's hiss of displeasure, and saw the reason once Kotetsu stepped further forward and dropped to one knee, head bowed in respect, Kuchiki, Abarai and Hinamori all following suit. It seemed that the Head Captain, Yamamoto Genryusai Shigekuni, had come personally – and he had brought his entourage with him. The Captains of the Gotei 13 and their Vice-Captains flanked Yamamoto on both sides. He could see Matsumoto Rangiku, his Vice-Captain, shooting him worried glances, her strawberry blonde hair a stark contrast to the black and white uniforms of the gathered Shinigami. She was standing on the tips of her toes and looked ready to bolt over to his side at a moment's notice. He deliberately avoided eye contact with her and hoped she would have enough rationality to stay where she was.

Hitsugaya was not surprised at their presence. He had expected it. After all, according to Kuchiki, the rescue mission had been authorized by Yamamoto himself.  _Probably didn't want Kurosaki charging in recklessly again,_ he thought, and immediately cut off that train of thought before it led him to memories that he had no intention of visiting just as yet. He turned his attention to the report Vice-Captain Kotetsu was giving Yamamoto instead.

"The rescue mission was a success," Kotetsu was saying, "we located and isolated the dangai pocket dimension they were held in, and Urahara Kisuke managed to open the portal to access it. Both Captain Hitsugaya and Kurosaki Karin were successfully retrieved, and preliminary medical kidou scans show no visible physical injuries to either."

Yamamoto nodded in approval. "Has the reason for their incarceration been found?"

"No, Head Captain," it was Kuchiki who answered his question. "Urahara is working to break the codes on the equipment that was retrieved from the pocket dimension as we speak."

Yamamoto made a non-committal noise, then tapped his cane on the ground once. "I expect a detailed report on the mission by tomorrow. You may rise and join your Captains, Vice-Captains."

As they did as he bade, Yamamoto turned his attention to Hitsugaya, who had been observing the proceedings silently. "Hitsugaya Toshiro. You will be expected to give a full accounting on your disappearance and subsequent incarceration before Central 46 and the Captains of the Gotei 13 tomorrow. We will then decide on the reinstatement of your Shinigami Captain status. In the meantime, you will report to the Fourth Division for a full medical examination." He eyed Hitsugaya, and waited impatiently for an acknowledgement of his orders, frowning when none was forthcoming.

After a moment of silence, that seemed to stretch forever in the eyes of bystanders, Hitsugaya ended what seemed like a silent battle of wills by giving a curt nod.

"I will see you at the Central 46 chambers tomorrow," Yamamoto told him gruffly, before turning and heading in the direction of the First Division barracks. His next comment was so soft, Hitsugaya would not have caught it if he had not been alert to his surroundings.

"Welcome back."

Hitsugaya suppressed a smirk. The old man was a softie at heart, even if he was too stubborn and hard-nosed most of the time.

"Captain!"

Her emotional yell was the only warning he got before Matsumoto flung herself at him causing him to stumble back, almost losing his balance. Silently, Hitsugaya thanked Kami for helping him grow taller so he no longer faced the danger of being smothered by her ample assets.

He gave her a brief, grateful hug, then tried to extract himself from the death grip she had on his person as she babbled and wept tears of joy onto his shoulder.

"That's enough, Rangiku," Eighth Division Captain Kyoraku Shunsui's amused voice chastised as he and Thirteenth Division Captain Ukitake Jushiro came up to them, "let the young man breathe."

Pouting, she finally released him, but remained at his side, fussing and fretting like the mother he never had. He let her; his sudden disappearance probably worried and upset her to more than she would care to admit, and this was just her way of showing it. She may be the worst vice-captain when it came to paperwork, but he would never question her loyalty nor underestimate how much she cared for him.

Hinamori came to stand on his other side, smiling at him, her eyes suspiciously wet, as the remaining captains and vice-captains welcomed him back before taking their leave. He received them stoically, unwilling to let his guard down just yet. Most of his colleagues would have a say in his reinstatement after all, and he did not trust any of their pleasantries for it was just that. There was no telling what their intentions towards him were; he had learnt as much in that tiny cell.

Fourth Division Captain Unohana Retsu approached him last, smiling as serenely as he remembered she was wont to, Kotetsu right on her heels.

"I am very pleased to be able to welcome you back, Captain Hitsugaya. If you'll follow me to the Fourth Division?"

With two short sentences, Captain Unohana had declared her stand on the issue of his captaincy. She still regarded him as her fellow captain, and would continue to give him the respect due to that position. Furthermore, she cared about him and his well-being more than just the captain of the medical division, but as a friend. Hitsugaya felt relief wash over him, for amongst the captains, she was one of the most senior, and her words and opinions held enough weight when she voiced them that even Yamamoto would sit up and listen. He bowed gratefully at her, waiting for her to lead the way before following, Matsumoto and Hinamori trailing worriedly behind him.

The thorough examination of his mental and physical health took only a couple of hours, and told Hitsugaya nothing he did not already know. There was nothing wrong with his physical health; he had been fed well after all, and had conditioned his body the best he could in the tiny area of his cell. It was his mental health that was the issue; he had given Captain Unohana a very short summary of his abduction, but refused to say a word about the incarceration. Even the threat of steel in her tone, which had many a fearless Shinigami quaking in their waraji, was unable to shake his tongue loose.

Finally, sensing that she would not be getting anything further from him, Captain Unohana had issued him a clean bill of his physical health, but warned him that she would still have to clear his mental health before he would be allowed to resume his captain duties. He merely nodded in response, for he had not expected anything less, and accepted the private room she offered him gratefully. With his captain status in limbo, he could not return to his living quarters in the Tenth Division, assuming that they have not already removed his things from there.

Matsumoto and Hinamori left soon after to return to their respective divisions, both women promising to accompany him to the Central 46 chambers the next afternoon. He did not want them to, but hadn't the heart to refuse them when they turned pleading eyes his way, and so grunted an assent. They beamed at him as they took their leave, and his eyes softened a little at their obvious elation.

After a long bath and a change of clean clothes, Hitsugaya lay in bed on his back, staring at the white-washed ceiling of his room. It reminded him of the cell he was locked in for so many months; he had spent ages looking at a similarly white-washed ceiling then, and had memorized the crack patterns of the paint and the light patches of stains that covered it. Back then there was not much to do in the cell, and Momo – no, it was Kurosaki Karin in that cell, he reminded himself again – and  _Kurosaki_  had not been particularly big on communicating with him at all. He did not blame her.

Frowning at the thought, he shifted under the covers to rest on his side.

The revelation that the person who had been in the cell with him for the past few months was actually Kurosaki Karin and not Hinamori Momo had thrown him for a loop. He knew that he had been under some kind of illusion during his incarceration, and Hyorinmaru had implied as much, but he still could not be sure where the illusion ended and the reality began. His memories could not be trusted as they were corrupted by illusions, despite the fact that every second in that cell had been seared into his brain.

Now, in the quiet of the night, he could relive and pick apart his memories, but no matter how much he dissected them, illusion and reality still blurred into a confusing mess, leaving him frustrated. The only way to really know was to talk to Kurosaki, and he was not ready to face her just yet.

He could still see her small, frail form cradled in her brother's arms, the slight rise and fall of her chest as she lay unmoving on the futon. Her face was pale and drawn, with dark shadows under her eyes, not at all like the bright and persistent young girl he remembered her to be. By the time he had to return to the Soul Society, she still had not woken. Guilt stabbed at him, and he wondered at her current condition. Was she awake? How was she? Had she spoken of her ordeal yet?

He flinched guiltily and shied away from the thought. It was unlikely that she had; her brother would have already gone bankai on his ass if she did. He still might once Urahara had decoded the information in the equipment from the dangai pocket dimension they were held in.

However, he knew there was no avoiding it. He had to face Kurosaki eventually, not only to apologize to her, even though he knew he could never atone for his sins towards her, but also for his sanity. The confusing mess of memories in his head needed to be sorted out before he drove himself crazy trying to figure it all out. Yes, Hitsugaya decided, he will pay her a visit as soon as he can get permission to go to the Human World. There was no way he was going to avoid her like a coward.

Mind made up, he shut his eyes, pushing his thoughts away, keeping his mind carefully and deliberately blank, and willed sleep to come.

It was a long while before it finally did.


	3. Abduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Bleach belongs to Tite Kubo. I am just playing in his sandbox.

  _Six months ago_

Hitsugaya Toshiro flash-stepped into the cave that had served as his training arena for the past few years, making his way by memory as his eyes adjusted to the dark interior. The walls were spattered with stains of ice that had long since melted, and the ground littered with the remnants of boulders that had been disintegrated during previous training sessions. They crunched under his footsteps, the sounds echoing in the vast cavern.

When he reached the cleared space in the middle of a hollowed out area, he took a quick precautionary scan of reiatsu, satisfied when it turned up empty. Training with his bankai was a dangerous up-taking, and any soul unfortunate enough to be caught in the maelstrom that resulted may find their lives in jeopardy.

He drew his zanpakto, willing the scabbard away, and held it in front of him, tip up. Closing his eyes, he entered his inner world, where the cold wind blew furiously and the snow and ice covered land stretched barrenly as far as the eye could see.

"Hyorinmaru."

The zanpakto vanished and in its place, a dragon made of water and ice materialized with a roar, hovering lightly in the air before settling down on the ground with a resounding crash.

"Master," Hyorinmaru's deep rumble greeted him.

Hyorinmaru roared an assent, then dissolved and reformed into a sword. Toshiro grasped the hilt, withdrawing from his inner world, and opened his eyes.

"Bankai. Daiguren Hyorinmaru."

* * *

A week later, Toshiro stabbed his zanpakto into the ground for perhaps the thousandth time, watching in satisfaction as ice formed at the point of impact then spread, covering the ground thickly. It was the fastest he had managed to wield this particular attack yet. He glanced back, noting that he was down to his last amethyst petal. Releasing more reiatsu, he twisted his blade, increasing the strength of the attack. Large spikes of ice rose from the sheet that blanketed the ground, glinting dangerously even in the dark cave.

Behind him, the last petal shattered and dissolved into dust.

Immediately, he felt the drain of his reiatsu and the ice wings of his bankai start to crack. He drew a steadying breath, then slowly reined in his reiatsu, halting the disintegration of his bankai. Ignoring the fatigue and reiryoku drain, he spread his reiatsu out again gradually in increments, repairing the ice body of his bankai until it was restored. Once done, he took to the air again, the high, elevated ceiling of the cave allowing him the space to train aerially.

He did a few experimental loops and twists, testing his manoeuvrability, and was pleased when his bankai held without leaving him light-headed. It was usually at this point in his previous training sessions this past week that he would pass out from a combination of over-exertion and reiryoku drain. Finally. He could finally move on to the next stage of his training.

"Ryusenka!"

He barely had time to savour the euphoric feeling of seeing the large ice flower forming where he had stabbed his blade, before his vision blurred, his strength faded and he was falling through the air.

* * *

When he woke, he was lying on the ground, with his zanpakto next to him in its emerald scabbard on one side, and Hyorinmaru watching over him in his humanoid form on the other. He propped himself up, wincing when he felt the injuries sustained during the last week make themselves known. Hyorinmaru reached out immediately and help him to his feet.

"Careful, Master, you have still not rested nor recovered enough."

Toshiro grunted, picking up his zanpakto and strapping it to his back. "How long was I out?"

"About three hours, Master."

He frowned. That was far too long to be out cold from simple over-exhaustion.

"Do not be too hard on yourself, Master. We have progressed further since we started training seven days ago. You have already been pushing yourself far too hard these past few years and your body has been forced through some abnormal growth in order to cope." Disapproval rang clear in Hyorinmaru's tone.

"Hmm," was his only response as he headed out of the cave, his strides slow and slightly unsteady. His body still felt weak, and he seemed to be walking on limbs that had turned to jelly. Hyorinmaru was right; he had not recovered enough to be exerting himself physically in any way. He pushed on stubbornly, wanting to return to the small house nearby, that he had bought shortly after he had begun training at the cave, to rest.

The growth that his body had been forced through was not all bad in his opinion. He no longer looked like a child now, his physical body having matured to resemble that of a teenager. It was much easier for his subordinates and peers to treat him with the deference his rank as a Shinigami Captain warranted now that he looked closer to the part physically, instead of the skepticism and uncertainty that had plagued him when he had resembled a child. What pleased him the most was the growth in height; he was almost as tall as Abarai now, not that it was a competition or anything.

"But the growth is abnormal, Master. It is far too dangerous to have forced your body's growth in order to adapt to the surge in reiryoku that has resulted from our intensive training."

Toshiro bit back a sigh. Sometimes, it was a bother to have a part of your soul manifest itself. Especially when that part had a voice that it was not afraid to use.

It was an understatement to say that Hyorinmaru was not pleased with how hard he had been pushing their limits these past few years, and most especially not after the growth spurt. In fact, Hyorinmaru had, at one point, refused to lend Toshiro his powers until they reached a compromise regarding their training, with Toshiro having had to accede to letting Hyorinmaru set the limits that he would be able to push, so that he would not end up killing himself by accident.

He understood Hyorinmaru's concern, but he was still adamant in his determination to become stronger. Ever since he had run Momo through with Hyorinmaru during the Winter War when Aizen Sosuke, former Fifth Division Captain turned traitor, had him under his zanpakto's ability of complete hypnosis, he had resolved to train harder in order to improve on his abilities so that his actions would not be controlled like that again. Unfortunately, he was limited by his physical body, as it was unable to handle the sheer amount of reiatsu he required to fully utilise his bankai. So, ignoring the cautions from Hyorinmaru, he had deliberately pushed his physical body past its limit when he trained, nearly killing himself several times by the backlash of the overpowering reiatsu he had produced. His physical body struggled to adapt, and was forced to grow in order to survive.

The growth spurt caught the attention of the entire Gotei 13, for it was unusual for captain level shinigami to age, and most certainly not at the rate that he was, their high reiryoku acting almost as a deterrant to the aging process. Yamamoto, for example, seemed not to have aged one bit in the 50 odd years that Toshiro had known him. Questions were asked, of course, during one of the many captains meeting no less, but he had simply glared and told them, as respectfully as he could, to mind their own business. After all, there were more important things to be discussed during captains meetings, like the progress of re-establishing a new Central 46 and the rebuilding of the Seireitei and the Gotei 13. Later, he had stealthly made himself scarce, so skillfully that it would have put Second Division Captain and Onmitsukido Commander-in-Chief, Soi Fon, to shame, in order to evade his colleagues's interrogation. He had no doubt that was exactly the intention of Captain Ukitake, with Twelfth Division Captain, Kurosutchi Mayuri, right behind with a cage to drag him off to his lab for experimentation.

It was dark when he stepped out of the cave alone, Hyorinmaru having returned to their inner world once he was sure that Toshiro had recovered enough to manage the trek back to the small house. He stopped for a moment to orient himself, taking a deep breath of fresh air. He had no idea how long he had spent in the caves training, for no light nor day penetrated the depths of it, and he had only stopped and rested when he had needed to. As he made his way through the dense forest that ringed the mountain housing the cave, he made a mental note to check the actual time and date once he reached the house. Hopefully, he would have some days of his leave left.

A soft whistling sound caught his attention, and he turned in its direction just as a sharp object pierced his right shoulder. He glanced down at the slim dart embedded in his flesh, cursing his carelessness at being caught unawares.

Almost immediately, his body turned numb and his vision blurred. He collasped to the ground with a heavy thud, head spinning, struggling to keep his eyes open. The black hem of a _shinigami_ -issue _hakama_ was the last thing he saw before his eyelids lost the battle and slid shut.

 


	4. Awakening

The steady beep of the heart monitor was giving her a headache. That was Kurosaki Karin's first thought as she drifted back into consciousness. Someone needed to shut the damn thing off.

She pried open her surprisingly heavy eyelids, only to squeeze them shut again when the bright sunlight streaming into the room pierced her vision. Months spent in the dark and poorly lit cell had made her sensitive to light – and she was quite sure, from the soft, fluffy bed and pillows she was lying on and the fresh, clean smell of her surroundings, that she was most definitely not in that cell.

It seemed like she was not anywhere in the fortress that was her prison for the past few months for that matter – the air smelled fresh for one, not the musky, almost stifling still air that she had been breathing for months, and there was sunlight, which she had not seen ever since she had been incarcerated. Which then begged the question of just where the hell she was, and who had her now, because the last memory she had was of her captor securing an oxygen mask to her face and putting her into some kind of empty tank.

She pushed that memory away. If there was anything she learnt during her incarceration, it was how to compartmentalize. Those memories were for the nightmares that she could not escape, and not the moments awake when she had survival to fight for.

Forcing her eyelids open a crack, she squinted at her surroundings as her eyes tried to adjust to the bright light.

There was an open window to her right, with lightly billowing curtains, letting in sunlight and a slight breeze. A white curtain divider was pulled around her bed, creating a small private space. To her left stood a cabinet of monitors and an IV stand, with two dripping bags which she realised where connected, by tubes and needles, to her left hand.

She frowned. It all seemed oddly familiar somehow, like she had been here before.

Slowly, she sat up, wincing at how weak she was, and the movement caused her head to spin. How long had she been unconscious anyway?

She barely had time to register the familiarity of the set of garments she now wore, when a voice she had only heard in her memories for the last few months rang out and the curtained divider was pushed aside.

"Karin! You're awake!"

She immediately found her rigid body in a tight embrace. Breathing in the missed fruity scent of her twin, Karin sagged into the hug. "Yuzu," she whispered fervently, raising a hand to grip the back of Kurosaki Yuzu's blouse fiercely, and the tears that she had not allowed herself to cry for years finally spilled over.

"Yuzu! Is Karin alright? I heard your voice –" Isshin's voice cut off abruptly as he pulled the curtain divider open roughly and saw his daughters locked in a crying embrace. The look of panic on his face faded, and he smiled through watery eyes at Karin, who had raised her head at his voice and sobbed even harder through mumbles that sounded suspiciously like "stupid goat face".

"Welcome back, Karin," he told her warmly, dropping a warm kiss on her head before backing away, leaving his daughters to their private moment. He needed to tell Ichigo the good news.

Eventually, Karin cried herself out, and sat sniffling in Yuzu's arms, refusing to let her twin go for the moment. They had never been apart for more than days since they were born, and being forced apart for so long had been hard on the both of them, and neither wanted to let the other go just yet.

"How are you feeling, Karin?" Yuzu asked, wiping ineffectively at her tear-stained face.

"Fine. You know me, strong as an ox and all."

Yuzu huffed. The question was rhetorical after all. Anyone could see that, at present, Karin looked like a gust of wind could blow her over. "Karin."

"Alright, a little bit weak," Karin admitted grudgingly. "How long have I been unconscious anyway?"

"Well, just over a day since they brought you back..."

"But?"

"But we have no idea how long they had you under an induced sleep."

Karin frowned. Induced sleep? It made no sense to her since it had seemed that her captors seemed to take pleasure from the torment they wrought to their prisoners. Was that what they did to her when they placed her into that tank?

However, Yuzu was not done talking, and Karin blanched as she caught the tail end of her twin's sentence.

"- baby is doing just fine."

"Baby? What baby?"

"Huh?" Yuzu looked at Karin, surprised. Then her face fell. "You don't know, do you?" she asked, so softly, that Karin had to strain to hear her.

"Know?" Her twin had an expression like a deer caught in headlights – stunned, panicked and fearful.

Yuzu bit her lower lip in worry and indecision. She was not prepared to break the news to Karin, not when her twin was still so frail. There was no telling how Karin would react to it.

"What is it, Yuzu?" Karin pressed, her tone almost pleading.

"Maybe when you've recovered more, Karin," she hedged, trying to avoid answering Karin's questions.

"Tell me," her twin demanded, a stubborn look appearing on her face now.

Yuzu eyed the determined glint in Karin's eyes in trepidation. There would be no avoiding now, she knew. Her twin was like a dog with a bone when she wanted to get to the bottom of something. She would not just let it slide.

"Tell me, Yuzu," Karin repeated, sitting up straighter now.

Yuzu sighed and tried to break it to her twin as gently as she could. "We ran diagnostic tests on you when you came back, Karin. Physically, you are fine, if a little malnourished and weak, but..." she trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

"But?" Karin dragged the word out, impatiently commanding Yuzu to continue.

"We ran a pregnancy test, and..."

"I'm pregnant aren't I?" Karin's face fell and her voice was no more than a whisper.

Yuzu hesitated, then nodded once. "I'm sorry, Karin."

Numbly, Karin shook her head as tears began to fall again and she burrowed into Yuzu's embrace.

"Oh, Karin," Yuzu murmured sadly, as she stroked soothing circles on her twin's back.

The curtained divider drew back again; their father had returned, and with him was their tall, orange-haired older brother, whose relief at the news that his sister was awake was quickly replaced by worry when he saw her crying in Yuzu's arms.

"Hello, big brother." Yuzu greeted.

"Yuzu, Karin." He approached the bed and sat down gingerly next to the twins, whilst Isshin stood to the side of the bed, his expression soft as he gazed down at all of his children.

"Big brother?" Karin looked up with tear-filled eyes, before turning away from Yuzu and latching onto him, crying into his shirt instead.

Ichigo patted her somewhat awkwardly on the head as he looked over her dark head to Yuzu helplessly. Karin had not called him 'big brother' for years, not since their mother had died. For her to be addressing him as such meant that she was in a very vulnerable state. Silently, he swore revenge on the sick bastard that had caused his baby sister so much pain.

"She didn't know she was pregnant," Yuzu answered the unspoken question, trying to fight back more tears, her heart breaking as she watched her twin weep.

"Oh, Karin," Isshin murmured, stroking her hair gently as she continued to sob into Ichigo's now ruined shirt. "Everything will be alright, you'll see. You're home now. You're home with us now."

Unable to help herself, Karin wept harder into the strong and comforting embrace of her older brother at her father's words. It did not matter to her that she had been reduced into a pathetic, weeping mess. Later, she would blame it all on pregnancy hormones. Now, surrounded by the warmth, love and concern of her family, she could cry. And cry she did. For the tears she had refused to shed, for the innocence she had lost, for the hope she had thought gone, for the faith that she had held on to, and most of all, for the innocent life in her womb that had been conceived from a nightmare.

Eventually, Karin's tears slowed and, worn out by her emotions and her recent incarceration, she drifted off to sleep, content in the knowledge that she was finally home with her family again, however dysfunctional they are. She only prayed that this was not a cruel illusion or dream that would dispel once she woke.


	5. Taken

_Six months ago_

Karin Kurosaki listened with half an ear as her twin prattled on about school as they made their way home, suppressing the urge to rub at her temples, where already she could feel the tension of the oncoming headache manifest – a warning sign that one of those monsters, hollows, as she had learned they were called - was nearby and wrecking havoc.

She frowned, slipping her right hand into her sling bag and fingering the device that Urahara had given her to destroy the lower level hollows. It would be best to get Yuzu out of harm's way before she did anything. Even if she had mastered the basic kidou that she had threatened and conned Urahara into teaching her, and honed her hand-to-hand combat skills under Tatsuki's tutelage, she still got hurt often fighting these hollows and had quickly learned how to identify which ones she could take down, and which ones she had to avoid.

It was not like she went about actively seeking these hollows anyway. They just were attracted to her like bees to honey because of her high _reiatsu_. Urahara had taught her to mask her _reiatsu_ , but apparently, she was only slightly better at it than Ichigo, whom, she had learnt, had no control whatsoever over his _reiatsu_. Of course, she would not have had to go through all that trouble if the crappy shinigami assigned to their town would do his job properly in the first place. He was so slow, especially when it came to hollow slaying, that Karin often wondered how he had managed to become a qualified shinigami in the first place. Don't they have shinigami boot camp that taught stuff like this? Didn't he have a device that notified him when hollows appeared or something? She was usually reminded of these questions after she had taken care of the hollow that had appeared. Unfortunately, there was no one to answer these burning questions, except Urahara, who had only smirked and slickly sidestepped her questions.

She was baffled, in any case, that they had not assigned a more competent shinigami to Karakura. Had they not learnt by now that with so many high _reiatsu_ people around, Karakura was like living hollow bait? How did they expect the town to be protected by such an incompetent shinigami? No wonder Ichigo was running off to slay hollows half the time when he was around. Someone had to take care of those monsters.

Her head was pounding now, and a distant roar told her that the hollow had drawn closer to where they were. Thankfully, it seemed that the hollow was in the opposite direction of their route home and seemed to be one of the manageable ones. Nevertheless, it was still too close to both their home and school for her to ignore.

She sighed inwardly; she hated when she had to lie to her twin.  _It's to protect her,_ she reminded herself,  _to protect her._ Deliberately turning away from her twin so she would not have to meet her gaze, Karin blurted out the first excuse that came to mind, "Hey, Yuzu, I think I forgot an assignment back in the classroom. You go on home first."

"Huh? But, Karin!" Yuzu protested, as her twin did an abrupt turn and raced away in the direction of the high school.

Yuzu huffed in annoyance, but did as her twin bade, continuing on her way home. She knew that Karin had not left anything back in the classroom. If she believed her twin every time she said she had forgotten something, then Karin would have the worst memory she had ever known. No, Karin had gone to fight one of those monsters.

She had been doing so for nearly four years now, and as her twin and the one person closest to Karin, Yuzu had caught on quickly. It was inevitable, for Karin had never been a very good liar, and especially not to her. The excuses Karin gave were not at all inventive and, in the last year, had whittled down to forgetting to do something or forgetting she had to meet someone. Yuzu had never caught Karin out in her lies, and allowed her twin to continue believing that she knew nothing, but it was getting harder to bite her protests down every time Karin ran off to fight one of those monsters. She knew how dangerous it could be, for more often than not, Karin would come home bruised and bloodied, with cuts and scrapes, which she then tried to hide from her twin, and Yuzu worried incessantly for her twin's safety.

"I'm home!" Yuzu called, pushing open the front door.

"Ah, my sweet daughter is home?" Her father cried as he bounded out of the clinic, still in his medical doctor coat, and wrapped Yuzu in a hug. "How was school today? And where is my darling Karin?"

"Karin forgot something in school, Daddy." There was a flash of understanding and worry in her father's eyes, and Yuzu held back a frown of irritation. His protective instincts were kicking in again, which means he was not going to tell her anything, pretend to believe that lie and then try to distract her.

"Oh-ho! Let's not wait for her then! Please get changed, my dear Yuzu! Daddy needs your help in the clinic. There are patients waiting!" With that, he disappeared into the clinic again.

Yuzu sighed. Nail on the head.

* * *

The hollow was laughing sinisterly when Karin finally reached the small alleyway, and the Shinigami who was supposed to be in charge of slaying the hollows in Karakura Town was nowhere to be seen. A spirit cowered in fear on the ground in front of the hollow, as it opened its jaws wide, ready to devour him.

"Hey, ugly!" Karin yelled, throwing a rock at it, effectively distracting it from its meal and turning its attention to her. Quickly, she raised the kido blaster and aimed a powerful shot at the hollow's mask. Urahara had told her it was the best and quickest way to get rid of the hollow.

However, instead of dissipating when the blast found its mark, the hollow howled and stomped about in agony, nearly squashing the spirit, who was now staring at it in abject fear, and not making the slightest effort to get out of harm's way.

Karin scowled, annoyed. Why these spirits cower instead of running away from the hollow is beyond her. Where was their self-preservation instinct? "Move it!" She snapped at the spirit, before getting off another shot. This time, she infused a little of her reiatsu into the kido ball and the impact caused the hollow's mask to crack and it dissipated with an angry cry.

Glad that this was just a low-level hollow, Karin pocketed the kido-gun and turned toward the still cowering spirit. "Beat it, idiot. Or another one's gonna come back and get you."

The spirit gave a last frightened whimper and vanished.

"Well, that was entertaining."

Karin tensed, her senses alert, trying to pinpoint the source of the disembodied voice. Was it another hollow? She could not feel its reiatsu at all. "Who are you? Show yourself!"

"Heh. He was right. You  _are_  perfect." The gleeful tone of the voice sent shivers down her spine and she fought back a shudder.

"Show yourself!" She repeated forcefully, shoving the surge of fear back.

Silence greeted her statement.

Slowly, she backed away from the alley, towards the main street, her stance ready should she be attacked. Her surroundings were quiet, a little  _too_  quiet, and the only sounds were the soft tread of her sneakered feet on the concrete ground and the rapid pounding of her racing heart.

Karin was two steps to the main street when a portal opened up in front of her, a swirling, dark void, and sent her recoiling back in shock.

"No," the voice purred silkily, answering her question from before, just a breath from her right ear, and then a forceful push sent her stumbling into the dark portal.

Her startled gasp was cut off abruptly as the portal closed behind her.

Back at the Kurosaki Clinic, Isshin felt the _reiryoku_ of his daughter suddenly spike then vanish. He started, a sliver of fear and apprehension running through him, and immediately reached for the phone. Urahara had to know about this.


	6. Together

Gently, so as not to disturb her, Ichigo lay Karin out on the bed and Isshin tucked the blankets around her slumbering figure.

The men settled into white, plastic chairs at the foot of her bed, while Yuzu retreated to her sanctuary - the kitchen - to prepare dinner for her family.

"I'll have to send word to the Soul Society. Rukia and the rest will want to know that Karin has woken," Ichigo spoke, his voice low and soft, careful not to rouse his sister from her sleep.

Isshin nodded. "And the pregnancy?"

"I told Isane not to breathe a word about it, even to Captain Unohana."

"And Captain Hitsugaya?"

"What about him?"

"He should know about this."

"No." His tone was flat and brooked no argument.

"Ichigo." There was a hint of weariness and warning in Isshin's voice. They had had this conversation before.

Ichigo's jaw clenched stubbornly. "He should have protected her! Not knocked her up!"

"Son, we still don't know what happened during their captivity. We shouldn't rush to assume things."

"He doesn't even know that it was Karin who was locked up with him!" Ichigo spat angrily. "Who's to say he knew what was going on at all?"

"Urahara is decoding the information in their computers right now, and Captain Hitsugaya will be facing an inquisition from Central 46. We'll know what had happened to both of them soon enough. All we know for certain at this point, was that Captain Hitsugaya was under some sort of illusion. However, since he has yet to divulge anything at this point, and Captain Unohana insists on allowing him time to recuperate, we can't learn anything from him. Not until he is willing to speak in any case."

Ichigo snorted in disbelief.

Isshin sighed, not taking his gaze off his dark-haired daughter as she slept on. It was unlikely that they would learn anything from Karin as well. His baby girl preferred to keep everything to herself, and he always worried about her because of it.

He had deliberately put on the act of a goofy loon in front of his children to keep their spirits up after their mother passed, but he always amped it up in front of Karin because she would always take the bait and react to it. He fancied it to be a stress reliever of sorts for her. Karin never seemed to take it for more than its face value, but he sometimes wondered if she knew more than she was letting on, in more ways than one.

He knew of her hollow fighting, for even Urahara could not teach her how to hide her reiatsu when she fought, and even though he always kept a watchful, albeit metaphorical, eye on her reiryoku at all times, he had never broached the subject with her, just like he hadn't with her brother when he had become a shinigami. Besides, it was unlikely that she would admit to it even if he did. That was provided, of course, that she did not whack him senseless for keeping his real identity from them first. His spitfire of a little girl was aggressive like that.

A whimper from Karin broke the silence, sending both men out of their chairs and over to her bedside.

Karin whimpered again, her face drawn into an expression of pain, and tossed around restlessly on the bed.

Isshin's heart broke a little again at the sight. He, her own father, had not been able to protect his baby and she had suffered for it. His baby girl, his strong fighter of a baby girl, was hurt and crying through nightmares because he, the useless father that he was, had not been able to find her. Pulling himself together, he lowered himself onto the bed and drew Karin's now softly sobbing figure into his arms, murmuring incoherent words meant to calm and soothe, whilst Ichigo looked on worriedly. Slowly, her crying eased and her thrashing stopped, and she clung to her father even as she slid back into slumber.

Settling himself more comfortably on the bed, he adjusted Karin's grip a little before glancing at his son. "Go check on Yuzu and make that call to the Soul Society. We'll decide on the issue of her pregnancy later."

Ichigo frowned, but let his father's comments go for the moment. He had absolutely no intention of letting anyone else in the Soul Society know about Karin's pregnancy, and most especially not Toshiro. Guy was lucky he hadn't already Bankai-ed his ass. With a last glance at Karin, he headed into the house to find Yuzu.

* * *

Yuzu stirred the simmering soup slowly, glad to have something to distract her from the depressing thoughts of her twin.She was glad that Karin was finally back, of course, but her twin had obviously been through an ordeal, and no one would tell her what had happened. It exasperated her endlessly how her entire family continued to think that they were protecting her by keeping things from her, even now when she was not as helpless as she had been before. She would have thought that they would have learnt by now that she had a way of knowing these little secrets that they tried so hard to hide. 

She rolled her eyes inwardly as she thought of the ridiculous attempts her father and brother made to sidestep her questions. Apparently not. 

She had always known that her family could see souls, including her father, even if he acted like he could not. It helped to be as observant as she was sometimes, even if she did allow them to think that she was as clueless as they wanted her to be. In their over-protective way, her family had the bad habit of keeping things from her, especially shinigami-related stuff. Before Karin went missing, she had been able to faintly see vague outlines of the souls that pestered the rest of her family. However, she had pretended that she could not see them to set their minds at ease, especially Karin. 

Karin was the strong twin, and as long as she remembered, never allowed herself to cry knowingly, no matter how much pain she was in. She knew why, even if they never talked about it, and Yuzu cried enough for the both of them. Sometimes, she thought she cried so easily  _because_ she was crying the tears her twin refused to shed. To see Karin's tears broke Yuzu's heart, because it only served to highlight just how very vulnerable her twin was at the moment, to have been rescued from captivity, only to find herself pregnant.

She wondered at the identity of the father whose baby Karin was now carrying. Karin had been stunned when told that she was pregnant, but had not said anything about it except to cry. She did not seem upset, per se, just overwhelmed. Yuzu had her suspicions of course, having heard that the young, white-haired Shinigami Captain who had stayed at their house before was rescued along with her twin, but with no one saying anything to her, she was unable to get any kind of confirmation. No matter, she had ways of finding out about these things eventually. It helped tremendously that Hanakari Jinta, the boy living at the Urahara Shoten, was very sweet on her, and more often than not, the unintentional provider of the information she sought.

"Yuzu, how are you doing?"

Ichigo's soft voice interrupted her thoughts and she looked up at him, surprised. He had never been one for heart-to-hearts. Even now, he looked uncomfortable, standing on the other side of the kitchen counter, hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans, trying to appear nonchalant and failing miserably. The worry in his eyes still lingered and immediately her thoughts went to her twin.

"I'm fine, big brother. Lunch will be ready in a bit. How is Karin?" Yuzu pierced him with a sharp look when he hesitated. "Please don't hide anything about Karin's condition from me."

Ichigo sighed, reaching up to scratch his hair awkwardly. "She had a nightmare, but she's fine now. Dad's looking after her."

"Okay." Slightly mollified by his response, Yuzu turned off the fire, and began preparing four trays of food, giving the first the Ichigo. "I expect you'll want to eat by Karin's bedside. I'll bring Daddy's tray over in a bit."

"Thanks, Yuzu." Ichigo's lips quirked up in what she supposed was a hint of a smile. "I'll come back for Dad's tray, and you can bring yours along, alright?"

Her eyes welled up with tears again. Wiping at them with the edge of her apron, she beamed at Ichigo and nodded.

Their little family was back together again, and that, to Yuzu, was all that mattered. They could get through anything together.


	7. Nightmare

_Six Months Ago_

Karin awoke to a room in shadows.

She winced, feeling a dull throbbing at her wrists and ankles, where the effects of fighting the metal restraints that the Crazy Scientist had put her in once they were in his lab, were making themselves known. She had not been about to be dissected like some kind of lab rat without a fight, so she had struck with everything she had got. Crazy Scientist didn't take too kindly to that, especially after she had knocked his glasses askew and almost taken his eye out in the process. She would have added in a few more hits to the groin area, not caring at all if she was fighting dirty, but he had jabbed her viciously in the arm with some kind of sedative, and it was lights out for her after that.

Annoyed at herself, she tried to pull herself into a sitting position, and was alarmed to realize that her limbs would not respond to her. In fact, aside from her blinking eyelids, and the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, the rest of her body was not responding to the signals her brain was sending to it at all.

It did not seem to be a total paralysis, since she could still feel - the pain in her wrists and ankles, and the rough material of the sheets she lay on - but she could not move a single muscle. She tried to speak, to growl in anger or scream in frustration, and was furious when even her throat muscles refused to work. All that can be heard was a weak gurgle.

The Crazy Scientist, she seethed, the bastard must have done something to her. He was so dead when she got her hands on him.

Then again, that was probably why he had her in this state in the first place. Helpless as a newborn.  _Fucking coward_ , she cursed.

Already she could feel the crick forming at the back of her neck, and she wondered how long she would have to remain like this, sprawled haphazardly on the tiny single mattress, head turned to the side. The only thing she could see was the endless darkness, and if she strained a little, the faint glow of reddish light illuminating the white ceiling. Between failed attempts to get her body to move and glaring into the darkness, it did not take very long for Karin to be bored out of her mind, and boiling with frustration.

Fuck it. She was going to take him apart, piece by piece, starting with his ugly looking  _pink-_ framed glasses, before she killed him.

A low, pained groan alerted her to another's presence in the room, and snapped her out of bloodthirsty thoughts that involved feeding the Crazy Scientist to creepy bugs. Really huge, creepy bugs.

She tried to turn her head towards the source of the sound, and could have facepalmed when she remained as she was. Of course she would be facing away from potential dangers, she grouched.  _W_ _onderful_.

The unknown entity approached her, and she could hear the shuffling of unsteady footsteps, stumbling and stopping, and the gasps and pants of heavy breathing. It felt so ominous, and got her back up, especially when she still could not discern his or her identity.

Then the person clambered up onto the bed, and straddled her, and her mind froze in shock as he - she knew for sure now that he was male, for the hard erection pressing into her right thigh could not be mistaken as belonging to anything but a male - pulled at her clothes, and out of the corner of her eye, she could make out a head of light hair, broad shoulders, and a face hidden by the shadows.

Quickly, she snapped herself out of her shock, as worry and a slight panic took over, and she strained and willed her limbs to move, her throat to work so she could stop him, stop him before he stripped her bare. Fear washed over her as he ripped her school blouse open and her sports bra apart like it was paper before pushing up her school skirt and yanking her underwear aside.

 _This is not happening_ , she thought, desperately trying to keep a cool and clear head, as a voice inside screamed in terror and panic and she remained helpless beneath his rough grip, unable to move.

What made it worse was how the darkness hindered her sight, but heightened all her other senses, and every touch, every sound seemed to be amplified drastically.

She could feel his cool hands on her bare skin now, touching her, groping her; she could hear his breathing, heavier now, and harsher, right at her ear. He shifted lower as she screamed and yelled in her mind, fighting to move even an inch, to do anything to stop him. But the paralysis held her trapped, and she could only watch, hear and feel as he spread her legs and settled between them, his erection pressing against her centre like a crude, cruel taunt at what was to come.

It felt like some kind of twisted, horrible nightmare, only it was real, and she was trapped in her body, in her mind, and she felt like she could be sick.

She could hear her weak whimpers as she tried desperately to speak, to plead with him to stop. She could hear his harsh breaths in her ear, over the roaring in her ears and the violent thudding of her heart, feel his hot breath on her skin. And still she could not move, could not speak.

Then his shifted again, and it felt like she was being split open as he rammed into her dry, small passage. She had known that there would have been pain the first time, of course, for she had worked in a clinic, and aced her biology, but she had never imagined it to be this excruciating agony. Tears of pain welled and fell, unbidden, from her eyes, and she managed a gasp as he drew back slightly and thrust again, and again.

She could see him, out of the corner of her eye, straining over her, hands braced either side of her head; she could feel his skin against hers, feel her blood flowing from her torn flesh, lubricating her and easing his way as he continued to move in and out of her; she could feel the rough sheets brunching under her back, as his rough thrusting jerked her limp body back and forth underneath him; she could feel his sweat on both their skins as he worked himself into a frenzy; she could feel the agonizing pain where he stabbed repeatedly into her.

There was nothing else she could do in this living nightmare that she had been shoved into. She could only feel, and see and hear, all the while helpless to fight back, to voice a single word. She stared into the dark, darkness, unseeing, eyes wet with unbidden tears, willing herself away from this nightmare, trying to escape into her own mind, to block this - block him - out.

She failed miserably.

Time seemed to slow down as she lay beneath him, beneath this unknown man who was violating her, trapped in the prison of her paralysis. After what seemed like an eternity, she felt him give a final violent thrust, and he shuddered, spilling his seed into her. He stilled, breathing harshly at his exertions, before he slumped and slid halfway off her, collapsing on the bed face first.

Pinned to the bed by his weight, she was forced to remain as she was.

She could feel him softening inside her, feel the sticky, liquid mixture of her blood and his seed trickle out of her to pool on the messy sheets. She could feel his muscles go lax, hear his breathing even out as he fell asleep. And still, she could not move.

She had no idea how long she lay there, staring into the darkness, too stunned, pained, and terrified to close her eyes, afraid of what the unknown man will do to her when he woke, afraid of the power he had over her as the paralysis rendered her useless. Her mind's eye seemed like a broken tape recorder, and even though she tried to think of something,  _anything_ , that could distract her from the present, she found herself reliving the ordeal again, and again, and again in her mind. No matter how much she tried, she just could not escape those memories.

Her attacker slept on beside her, unaware of the damage he had wrought.

Much, much later, long after the blood and semen had coagulated and dried, after the sweat had dried from their bodies, still trapped underneath the unknown man, Karin lost her battle with exhaustion. Her eyelids fluttered shut and, reluctantly, she allowed the darkness to claim her.


	8. Jury

Forty wise men. Six judges. Together they formed the highest authority in the Soul Society – Central 46.

The first time Hitsugaya had encountered Central 46 was during the fiasco with Kusaka Sojiro, when they had been forced to duel for the right to wield Hyorinmaru, and his victory had led to the needless execution of a friend who had eventually returned for revenge.

He had only been six months into his first, and only, year at the Shino Academy.

The last time he had entered the Underground Assembly Hall, he had found a massacre – the resulting carnage of Aizen's sadistic ruthlessness. He could still see the river of blood, smell the decay of death of that day.

Needless to say, his experiences with Central 46 have never been particularly pleasant. He was not expecting this time to be any different.

He had no idea what to expect from the new Central 46, for they had assumed their duties in the period of time of his incarceration. Their predecessors had been rigid, and almost overzealous in their judgements and trials, but the new incarnation already seemed a little less so. For one, the previous Central 46 would never have held a trial without all evidence at hand, and for another, they would never have allowed him the chance to explain and account for his disappearance and subsequent incarceration.

But as he stood under the glaring spotlight in the middle of the Underground Assembly Hall of the Central 46 Compound, Hitsugaya could not help but feel a sense of déjà vu. He could still remember how he had stood at the very same spot as a terrified academy student, watching helplessly as the Omnitsukido dragged Kusaka out to be executed.  _You are not helpless now_ , Hitsugaya reminded himself, careful not to lose his impassive mask as he looked straight ahead into the darkness. Only the clenched fists at his side gave any indication to his tenseness.

The set-up of the Underground Assembly Hall was meant to intimidate. From the cold, hard wooden interrogation floor with the glaring overhead light, to the high benches that circled it in ascending, concentric rows. Rectangular wooden screens with numbers one through forty-six were placed at regular intervals, hiding the identities of the members once they were seated. The room was deliberately dimmed, save for the lone light beating down on the interrogation floor; the idea was simple – focus the attention on the accused, and allow them to feel the vulnerability of having the spotlight shine on them and their crimes.

It was a very effective method – Hitsugaya could readily attest to that.

Unconsciously, his jaw firmed, and he lifted his chin just a little bit higher as he waited for Central 46 to address him. The silence that hung in the air seemed almost stifling at this point.

"Are you Hitsugaya Toshiro, formerly Tenth Division Captain of the Gotei 13?" a deep voice spoke from among the council members, the sound reverberating around the chamber, so much so that Hitsugaya could not tell where it was coming from.

"Yes," Hitsugaya answered, pleased when his voice came out calm and steady, without a hint of the apprehension he was feeling inside.

"Hitsugaya Toshiro," the same voice continued, "you have been summoned here today to give an accounting of your disappearance from the Soul Society and to be given an evaluation to your competency to resume your duties as an active shinigami, and more importantly, as a Captain of the Gotei 13.

"We will begin with your disappearance. We have been informed by the Head Captain that your disappearance was in fact, an abduction by persons unknown, and the subsequent incarceration prevented you from returning to the Soul Society for a period of six months. Is this true?"

"Yes," Hitsugaya acknowledged, suppressing a frown. Although the rest of the council members remained silent, he could still feel their scepticism and censure. After all, how could a Captain of the Gotei 13 be captured and held so easily?

The next person who spoke, a lady with a harsh tone of voice, phrased the question more bluntly. "Explain to us how it was possible for a captain-level shinigami to be defeated, captured and held for a length of time, Hitsugaya. You may begin."

In a tone as calm and even as he could possibly manage, Hitsugaya related a highly edited version of his abduction. He began with his training to strengthen his bankai in the caverns, and recounted being caught off guard by a treated dart due to exhaustion, waking up in a room made of _sekkiseki_ , being locked up with Kurosaki, their numerous failed attempts at escape, and finally, being rescued by the team Yamamoto had authorized.

"Do you not know who is behind this?" Someone else barked down at him.

Hitsugaya bit back an irritated retort. He had already made it clear in his report that he had never seen the mastermind, just heard the distorted sound of his voice. He forced out a curt, "No."

"Are you absolutely sure?" the same person pressed, clearly disbelieving.

"Yes," Hitsugaya ground out, trying not to let his annoyance show.

"Captain Unohana of the Fourth Division has presented us with a report of the results of your medical examination. In it, she states that although there is nothing wrong with your physical health, she is unable to reach a conclusion regarding your mental health, as you refused to give the details of your incarceration. Explain to us why it is so," yet another person spoke, a male with a deep commanding voice.

"With all due respect, I am still not ready to talk about the details of my incarceration. There are events that I have yet to come to terms with, and furthermore, much of them involved Kurosaki Karin, who, as I understand, has yet to wake from her induced coma. I feel it is best that I speak with her before disclosing to anyone the horrors that we have lived in that cell." Hitsugaya's tone was firm and unyielding, but his heart pounded in his chest as he braced himself for the inevitable explosion.

There was a moment of silence - shock at his defiance, Hitsugaya guessed – before the chamber filled with outraged buzzing from the council members.

"Do not be insolent, boy!" a harsh male voice shouted, annoyance colouring his tone. "We require all facts to be presented before we are able to pass a verdict!"

Hiding his annoyance at being called a boy, Hitsugaya raised his chin a notch and steeled his nerves. "I never said that I will not disclose those details. I just require a little time before I am ready to."

The buzzing settled down to murmurings and light rustling of papers; there was a loud bang of a mallet hitting the table. "We will now deliver our verdict!"

 _That was fast,_  Hitsugaya couldn't help but think wryly.

"Hitsugaya Toshiro," the very first voice spoke again, "We have judged your explanation of your disappearance to be plausible and will accept it at face value at this moment. The details of your incarceration will be further investigated by the Onmitsukido pending the report from the Twelfth Division. As there is no indication of physical weakness on your part, you are allowed to resume Shinigami duties. On the recommendation of the Captains of the Gotei 13, we will allow you to resume the post of Captain of the Tenth Division as well. In addition, you will report to the Fourth Division once a week for an assessment on your mental health until such a time when Captain Unohana is able to present us with a comprehensive report on your mental health and clear you permanently for your duties. You will be placed under probation until the time we are presented with all the details of your incarceration, or you should choose to come forth with those details. We will then deliberate further to make a final decision.

"Your zanpakuto, Hyorinmaru, will be released back into your custody, but you will be required to wear a power limiter during the span of your probation period. The Head Captain will be given the authority to remove the limiter should there be a need for you to battle at full strength, with the condition that it be replaced immediately after your mission has been completed.

The decision of Central 46 is final and no appeals are allowed to be made. You are dismissed."

With that, the mallet hit the table once more, and two members of the Onmitsukido appeared to usher him out of the Central 46 Compound. He gave a short nod to the council members to recognize their leniency in their verdict, and strode out of the Underground Assembly Hall.


	9. Revelation

_Six Months Ago_

Toshiro was simultaneously aware of three things as he regained consciousness. The first - his head was pounding mercilessly, the second - the bed he was sprawled face down on was definitely not his own, and the third – there was someone else in bed with him.

He pushed himself upright, and let out a low groan when the movement made his head pound harder. Dimly, he noted the coarse sheets beneath his palms, and the feel of warm limbs pressing against his own naked skin.

_Naked?_

His eyes shot open in shock, taking no more than seconds to adjust to the shadowed room, and even less to process the sight they met. Immediately, he lurched away from the girl – the very naked girl – he had been pressed to, stumbling and almost hitting the opposite wall along with the large, heavy wooden bucket that had been placed there, in his haste.

The girl whimpered softly at his sudden movement, shifting and bringing her thighs closer together, but did not wake.

He stared, wide-eyed, at the shadowed outline of the girl on the bed, ignoring the pounding of his head and his shock, to wade through his muddled memories to comprehend how he had ended up almost naked and in bed with a girl.

His last memory was of training, heading back to his house, then being hit by a dart – damn his carelessness – and losing consciousness. Beyond that was a blank. How he had ended up in this room, in that bed, and on top of a naked girl was surely the doing of whoever managed to knock him out.

The perpetrator was going to be ice dust when Hyorinmaru was done with him.

It was then he realized that Hyorinmaru was not strapped to his back, nor could Toshiro feel him anywhere nearby. In fact, he could not sense any reiatsu or reiryoku at all, not even his own. He frowned. It was decidedly odd. The first thing he had mastered during his shinigami training was the control of his reiatsu, and had always been able to feel his own as he needed to be in full control of it at all times or risk harming those around him.

The only thing he knew that could shut reiatsu out like this was sekkiseki, and as far as he knew, it was rare enough that the Gotei 13 had trouble trying to replace it after the last war destroyed enough of the outer walls of the Seireitei to cause a shortage. It seemed almost impossible for the perpetrator to have enough of it to construct a room.

His eyes darted to the girl on the bed again, and he quickly put away the thought away for further analysis later. There were more pressing matters at hand – like the fact that he could smell the metallic tang of fresh blood, and his genitals and thighs were coated in a sticky-like substance.

He had a terrible suspicion as to what the substance was, and his heart filled with fear. Praying fervently to Kami that his suspicions were wrong, he scooped a bit of it with his fingers and gingerly sniffed. His heart plummeted. It was as he had feared – the substance was a mixture of coagulated blood and semen.

For a fleeting second, the thought that the blood may belong to him cross his mind, but it was gone just as fast, for a quick check of his body revealed no recently open wounds.

He collapsed in a heap onto the floor, staring at the sample staining his fingers in horror, and his racing thoughts ground to a halt as it reached the only possible conclusion – that he had raped that girl on the bed. He could feel the bile rise up in his throat and he thought he was going to be violently sick. It did not matter that he had no recollection of any of it. The blood – her blood – on his skin was proof enough.

He glanced over at the unconscious girl again, guilt wrapping around him like a vice, so tight it almost strangled him. With great difficulty, he pulled himself together and stood, the long tails of the shitagi he was clad in falling to mid-thigh once again, covering his shame. This was not the time to be falling apart; if the smell of fresh blood was any indication, the girl would likely be in a terrible state and he had to tend to her first.

There would be plenty of time for self-recriminations later.

He strained his eyes in the dark, searching for the heavy bucket he had almost upset before, and spotted its shadowed bulk to his right almost immediately. Feeling around its edges, he was gratified to find a tattered piece of cloth and, when he dipped his fingers in, the bucket half-full with cold water, a large wooden bowl bobbing around on the surface.

He retrieved a bowlful of water, and placed it carefully on the floor. Wetting the cloth, he wrung it dry, before silently approached the girl again. She did not stir.

Carefully, he shifted her thighs apart, guilt tearing at him anew as he felt the sticky and lightly crusted evidence of his crime on her skin. Gently, so as to not disturb her, he cleaned the mess between her thighs, his movements as methodical and clinical as he could make them when he was relying mostly on his sense of touch as he could hardly see anything in the shadowed room. The smell of fresh blood lingered, but without light, he could not see nor locate the source of the bleeding, and his gentle probing yielded no clues.

As hard as he tried to keep his touch light, the bruised and swollen flesh between the girl's thighs were apparently sensitive enough that even the touch of the cloth on it was enough to cause her pain and discomfort, for she moaned painfully while he cleaned the mess there.

When he was done, he shrugged off his shitagi and covered her with it; he could feel the tattered bits of her clothes around her, and knew that they were no longer salvageable.

Rinsing and wringing the cloth once more, he then proceeded to scrub himself with it. He cleaned away the blood and semen coating his thighs, and the dirt, grime and sweat that covered his body, his movements rough and angry, as if he was trying to cleanse himself of the crime that he could not remember committing.

He wondered if he had done anything else to the girl, anything else that didn't leave behind physical evidences, and cringed in horror at the thought.

Once clean, and his skin red and slightly raw from the vigorous scrubbing, he placed the dirty water aside and draped the cloth over the edge of the tub for it to dry. Having tended to the still slumbering girl, he decided to explore the room he had been left in. If he was lucky, there would be an escape route, although he highly doubted it. The perpetrator went to too much trouble for whatever madness he was planning to slip up now.

The room was given a quick but thorough once over. It was more a cell than room – four walls enclosed a rectangular shaped space, the only exit a thick circular metal door. A line of small, round holes were drilled through near the top of the walls, allowing some air circulation and faint streaks of pink tinted light that offered no illumination whatsoever. What was special about this nondescript room, he discovered, was that every inch of the walls were lined with sekkiseki – a rare type of stone that negates all reiryoku. It was the reason he was unable to sense any reiatsu or feel his reiryoku.

How the perpetrator managed to get his hands on enough sekkiseki to construct an entire room may very well be a clue in figuring out his identity. As far as he knew, the source of the sekkiseki stone was a well guarded secret in the Seireitei, and it was rare enough that they had trouble obtaining enough of it to replace the ones that had been reduced to rubble after the last war.

There was a small wooden crate at a corner of the room that contained a thin blanket, two plain kimonos and, to his relief, a lamp, matches and a bundle of candles. He lit the lamp first, the soft, dim light a welcome change from the crippling darkness and put on the larger of the two kimonos.

The girl moved, and her painful gasp jerked Toshiro from his thoughts. He watched as she sat up, dark eyes wide, pained and confused, long dark hair falling messily over her face, obscuring her features, hands pressing the shitagi he had covered her with securely to her front.

He cleared his throat, and she turned her startled gaze to him, instinctively scrambling back away from him to press against the wall fearfully. Guilt stabbed at him once more, and he swallowed painfully.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he told her, voice low and as soothing as he could make it while trying to appear as harmless as possible to her. She clutched the shitagi tighter and glared distrustfully at him. He winced. Of course she wouldn't trust him, he silently berated himself. He was the bastard who had raped her after all.

An awkward silence fell as they stared at each other, one with fear and distrust, and the other with remorse and guilt.

The girl broke eye contact first, grimacing in pain as she shifted her weight on the bed and pushed her long hair back from her face, allowing him to see her features properly for the first time since they were put in this room.

Toshiro froze and his heart dropped painfully. For the girl he had violated, who was looking at him with fear and pain and distrust in her eyes, was none other than his adopted sister – Hinamori Momo.


	10. Struggle

 

Dawn was just breaking when Karin woke once more, warm colours lighting up the sky and chasing away the darkness.

She stirred, and became aware of being wrapped in a warm, long forgotten embrace, of strong arms and starchy shirts, soapy detergents and faded minty aftershave. Unwilling to open her eyes, fearful that it was all a dream, she tightened her grip on the fistful of shirt she was clutching.

"Good morning, Karin," the deep voice that rumbled through the solid chest her ear was pressed to very nearly made her weep with relief.

"Daddy," she breathed, trying to hold back her tears. They seemed to come far too easily these days.

"It's ok, sweetheart, I've got you," Isshin soothed. "You're home now."

Karin blinked open moist eyes to a familiar colourful hawaiian print shirt, the jumble of colours almost dizzying after months of monochrome. She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut again. "Urgh. Dad. I would say 'don't ever change', but those shirts need to go."

Her father chuckled, and patted her on the head. "The patients need something cheerful to look at when they're here."

She snorted. "It looks like a toddler threw paint all over you."

"Besides, your mother liked them."

She snorted again, in disbelief this time, and wondered vaguely if her mother had been colourblind or simply blinded by love.

"I'm so sorry, Karin," Isshin murmured, his voice low and serious and full of grief as he stroked her hair gently, "that we weren't able to find you sooner."

His uncharacteristically serious tone had Karin holding back tears and she shook her head. "But you did find me, Dad, all of you, and that's over now," she told him softly, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face into his chest again. He did not reply, and instinctively, Karin knew he still blamed himself. Now she knew where her brother got his over-protective instincts and massive guilt complex from.

They stayed in silence for a while, Karin unwilling to let go of her father so soon, and Isshin relishing the warm weight of his baby girl back in his arms. Eventually, Karin pulled away from him reluctantly, wrinkling her nose, and plucked glumly at the patients robe they had dressed her in.

"I think I need a bath," she told her father solemnly, to his amusement.

* * *

The spray from the showerhead hitting her skin had been a long missed sensation after months of wiping down with a worn cloth and a tepid bucket of water. She stood under the warm water for a long time, her mind full of the memories of the past six months. Has it really been that long?

The tears came again, unbidden, and she found herself pressing a hand to her mouth, trying to quiet the sounds of her sobs. She sank down onto the smooth floor tiles, curling up into a fetus position and hugging her knees as she wept under the rain of warm water and the barrage of relentless memories.

Eventually, she cried herself out of tears. Pulling herself together, she finished her bath, turned the showerhead off, and towelled herself dry.

A quick glance at the bathroom mirror showed clearly the physical changes the last six months had brought to her. Her onyx hair was longer than she had ever let it grow, falling somewhere mid-back. Her skin was unusually pale; her body thin and frail. There were shadows under her eyes, which had taken on a red and puffy appearance due to her recent crying bout. When she tilted her body sideways, she could make out the slight roundness of her belly where the baby was nested, and a hand came up instinctively to cradle the bump.

A baby. She had always known there was a possibility - with the things that Toshiro had been forced to do to her, she knew there had always been the possibility. But the news of her pregnancy had still been a bit of shock, for possibility had now become actual fact. Her own protective instincts had been stirred up; she would do anything to protect that fragile life that was growing in her womb. At the same time, she felt overwhelmed and helpless. For what did she know about having and raising a baby? She was only sixteen for crying out loud!

Her hand dropped away, and she turned away from the mirror, jaw set with determination. She would find a way to make things work somehow, and she knew she could rely on her family to be there for her, for they had always rallied around their own. Things would work out fine, she told herself determinedly. It had to.

It was too bad she could not believe it.

* * *

She made her way downstairs after putting on a set of her old clothes that Yuzu had laid out for her, noting with some annoyance how they no longer fit her thinner frame and instead hung loosely around her body.

A scrumptious breakfast had been laid out on the table, courtesy of Yuzu, and Karin felt her mouth water at the sight. After forcing herself to swallow tasteless goo for months, her twin's fragrant and delicious cooking was definitely a welcome change. The rest of her family was already seated at the table, and turned as one to look at her when she pushed the door open. Her sharp eyes caught the worry and relief in their faces that they had tried to hide, and guilt rose up in her chest even as she quickly averted her eyes to the feast Yuzu had laid out on the dining table.

"There you are!" Yuzu exclaimed in an overtly cheery voice, getting up from her seat to grab Karin's hand and ushering her to the table. "I was just about to go up to look for you."

Karin found herself pushed gently into an empty seat and blinked as various dishes were heaped into her bowl of rice, a pair of chopsticks was pushed into her hands and everyone was urging her to dig in.

She plastered a weak smile on her face, hoping that it was reassuring enough, and picked up the bowl. Unfortunately, one whiff of the stir-fried beef and onions had her dropping the utensils and racing for the bathroom as the feeling of nausea struck her. She dry-heaved for a while, her stomach churning, before collapsing on trembling legs onto the bathroom floor.

Someone pulled her long hair back from her face and a glass of water was pressed into her hand. She opened her eyes to find her entire family squeezed into the small bathroom, worry and concern writ on their faces. She rinsed her mouth with the water before flashing them an apologetic grin. "Seems like the baby isn't a fan of onions."

The pronouncement had a different impact on each of her family members. Her father looked slightly amused, while a look of anger crossed her brother's face and his lips pressed into a thin line. Yuzu's face fell a little before she brightened and immediately offered to cook a new dish. Karin waved the offer away with a hand, rinsing her mouth once more before straightening and making her way back to the dining table, the rest of the family trailing her.

"I'm sure there's other things I could eat, Yuzu. Besides, you've cooked enough to feed an army," she told her twin as she sat down and proceeded to remove every single bit of onion she could find from her bowl.

For a while, the only sounds heard were of the Kurosaki digging in. Eventually, Isshin put his bowl down and turned a serious gaze on his dark-haired daughter. "Karin, I think we need to have a talk about the baby."

Silence fell over the dining table as Ichigo and Yuzu both paused in their eating and set their utensils down as well, turning inquiring gazes upon their sister, who had frozen in her seat with her chopsticks halfway to her lips.

Carefully avoiding her family's gazes, Karin asked with feigned nonchalance, "What about it?"

"First things first: Do you plan on keeping this baby?" Isshin asked softly.

Her utensils clattered down onto the table as her wide eyes flew to up to meet Isshin's grave ones. "Of course I am!" she exclaimed, shocked that he even had to ask.

Isshin nodded, the grave expression on his features softening a little.

"Whose is it?" Ichigo demanded, unable to hold his tongue any longer. Isshin shot his son a fierce glare, warning him to back off the subject as Karin's eyes shuttered and her expression became carefully blank. Ichigo frowned, chastened but unrepentant.

"It's none of your business," Karin spat curtly, unable to fully keep the hurt out of her voice.

"Karin," Isshin said gently, drawing her attention again, "we need to know the identity of the baby's father in order to take precautions in the event that this is a cross-species child. We don't know the complications that could arise from the pregnancy if that is the case, and the fetus would have to be carefully monitored to ensure that there are no abnormalities."

She could feel her stomach churning again as his words conjured up images of being locked up in a glass room hooked up to wires and having her every move monitored, and for a moment, it felt like she was back in the lab of that Crazy Scientist. She could feel the memories welling, pushing at the dam she had carefully constructed in her head, and to her mortification, she could feel tears of distress pooling in her eyes. Quickly, she brushed them away with the back of her hand and stood, the chair legs scraping gratingly on the floor.

"No," she stated emphatically, uncaring that her voice came out shaky and far too loud in the quiet room. "I won't be anyone else's test subject!"

"No one is asking you to be a test subject, sweetheart," her father placated, and she recognized the tone of voice he used when soothing highly distressed patients that came through the clinic. "We just want to make sure that you and the baby will both be fine."

The memories had leaked past the dam now, and she could almost see the eerie red glow of the lab's lights, hear the soft hum of the machineries, feel the cold rubber gloves on the Crazy Scientist's hands as his fingers slid across her bare skin. Fear rose up, threatening to overwhelm her. She could feel her heart racing, could taste the bile at the back of her throat. Forcing herself to breathe deeply, she fought it back, fists clenching unconsciously as she glared at her family across the table through tearful eyes.

"It's what will happen," she whispered brokenly. Ignoring her half-eaten breakfast, she left the table and ran out of the house, needing to get away and be alone when she finally gives in to her memories.

The loud slam of the closing front door echoed through the house as the rest of the Kurosaki family exchanged sad glances over the dining table.


End file.
